Something Sweet
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: Ziggy is needed to watch over MOMO while her mother is out of town. With Juli Mizrahi's birthday around the proverbial corner, what's a cyborg to do? ZiggyJuli


**Something Sweet**

"Hey, old man!"

The lights of the maintenance room rose from their dim orange glow to reveal Ziggy lying in repose in the chair taken from the Elsa and replanted in the cyborg's personal quarters on the Durandal. He sat up, eyes lidded, as the red-headed Jr. entered, his usual grin lighting his child-like face. Jr. leaned one elbow casually on the arm of the chair and surveyed the room.

"I keep tellin' you-- you can have your own room in the residential area."

"I'm fine," Ziggy answered, unplugging himself from the check-up monitors methodically. "I prefer to be somewhere I don't bother anyone else."

"Well, you're bothering _me_!" Jr. said indignantly. "I had to give up my favorite supply closet just so no one violates your little personal bubble!" Ziggy's mouth pulled into a light smirk, and he crossed his arms defiantly.

"What do you want, Jr.?" Jr. mirrored Ziggy's movement, leaning against the nearest console in attempts to intimidate, or maybe challenge.

"Who takes orders from who, here?" Jr.'s bright eyes flashed. Ziggy's eyebrow raised as he watched Jr. swagger across the room. "_Maybe_ you're needed on the bridge." Ziggy casually stood from his maintenance chair and began adjusting the readouts on the nearest monitor. Jr. pouted and slouched. Ziggy was too disinterested to be any fun. His grin returned, and he leaned closer to the cyborg in confidentiality.

"There's a communique for you on the bridge." He paused brilliantly. "It's from Juli Mizrahi."

Ziggy's head swiveled slightly in Jr.'s direction. "Is she still on the line?"

_Hook, line and sinker!_

Jr. mentally chalked himself another point on his imaginary scoreboard and felt his smile widen to almost painful proportions.

"Oh, she is... _If_ you can get to the bridge before I do. I have an itchy 'end transmission' finger." Jr. waggled his fingers in Ziggy's direction before bolting sideways out the open door. Eyes wide with incomprehension, Ziggy stood dumbfoundedly wondering if Jr. was bluffing or not. Knowing the Little Master was never one to go back on his word, Ziggy took thundering after him, his familiar pounding metal footsteps echoing through the Durandal.

Shelley turned her head as the lift rose to the bridge, bringing with it a struggling Gaignun Kukai Jr., kicking and flailing as Ziggy held him aloft by the collar of his long coat. Ziggy walked forward, holding Jr. before him like yesterday's leftovers.

"Does this belong to you?" he asked, presenting the fiery red-head to the calm woman at the helm. Shelley laughed, accepting the gift.

"The cyborg fights dirty! Who told you to hold me back? See that look in his eye? I'll take you mano a mano! Shelley, let go! He couldn't take me in a fair fight!"

Silence fell on the bridge as a familiar laugh crackled over the speakers. Ziggy looked from the red-faced Jr. to the live feed from Fifth Jerusalem hanging over their heads. Juli Mizrahi's disembodied head watched the preceding with a kind smile, and her eyes now rested on Ziggy with one humored eyebrow raised.

"It's been a while, Jan Sauer," she said with laughter still hanging in her voice. Ziggy nodded. Jr. grunted in amusement while struggling against Shelley's grip.. He still found Jan to be a hilariously unfitting name for the cyborg. _Then again_, he thought, _how much better is 'Ziggy'_?

"Good morning, Dr. Mizrahi," Ziggy answered befittingly. Pausing, Juli tucked stray hairs behind her ear in thought.

"I'd prefer if you didn't call me Dr. Mizrahi."

"I'd prefer if you didn't call me Jan Sauer," Ziggy replied almost tartly. "I find it dredges up the past I'd rather forget." He left the statement ambiguous for a reason, and Juli caught his meaning. She smiled again, maybe a bit too tentatively.

"Shall I call you Ziggy, like MOMO does?"

"Should he call you 'Mommy' like MOMO does?" Jr. replied with a devilish smirk. Shelley tweaked his ear, and he yelped, huddling away from her defensively. Ziggy's mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile, then turned his attention back to the woman on the screen.

"That's fine... Juli."

She smiled in return.

"The reason I've contacted you, _Ziggy_," she added with something of a playful emphasis, "is that I have to leave home to do some research with the Contact Sub-Committee, and I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving MOMO alone, even for the night."

Jr. snickered as he mentally added the job to the cyborg's imaginary task board: _interplanetary robot spy, hardened bodyguard, Durandal watchdog, babysitter._

"As property of the Kukai Foundation, I personally can't accept or deny your request," Ziggy answered, glancing at Jr. "As second-in-command, Jr. is the highest-ranking representative of the Foundation present." The woman on the screen turned her eyes to Jr., who was suddenly thrown back into a conversation he'd been mostly ignoring. He stared, owl-eyed, up at the imposing figure of Ziggy and subsequently the screen behind him.

"Very well," Juli stated matter-of-factly, "Gaignun Kukai Jr., I require the assistance of the cyborg you have in your possession." Suddenly aware of the goings-on, Jr. became the businessman his younger brother had trained him to be.

"How long will you need him? He's pretty useful around here-- this place needs all the help it can get."

"That was almost sentimental, Little Master," Shelley droned.

"Quiet, you," Jr. shushed embarrassedly.

"I'll only take him from you for one night, and he will return on the next shuttle back to the Kukai Foundation. He would, however, need to leave immediately, or the Foundation will orbit out of Fifth Jerusalem's shuttles' reach." Juli answered. Jr. glanced at Shelley for confirmation, and she nodded in reply. Jr. scrutinized Ziggy for a moment, then shrugged.

"Don't wear him out, all right? He's practically an antique." Jr. raised his eyebrows encouragingly in Ziggy's direction, but the stoic cyborg's face remained unchanged. "Huh..." Jr. turned to Shelley for an assessment on his try at wit, but her face was immovable as well. Jr. furrowed his eyebrows and huffingly exclaimed, "Why do I hang out with you guys anyway!" Ziggy turned away, speaking to Juli as Jr. continued his tirade.

"I'll be at the shuttle launch pad in ten minutes, Dr.--" He caught himself oddly. "--Juli." He wetted his lips awkwardly, wishing he'd stopped himself less obviously. "That should make my arrival time near an hour and 45 minutes. Is that acceptable?"

"Don't rush yourself. After all, you _are_ nearly an antique."

"_SHE_ gets it!" Jr. roared. Ziggy shrugged it off.

"MOMO will be very happy to see you," Juli added. "She doesn't know I've contacted you." A pause. "She talks about you all the time."

"You should hear it on_ this_ end," Jr. said obtrusively, grinning. "You'd think--"

"Dare I bring up your conversation with the Elsa droid two days ago?" Ziggy muttered dangerously, his eyes suddenly slits. Jr. blushed wildly, shook his head, and was suddenly mute.

Laughing, Juli ended their conversation with: "We look forward to seeing you, Ziggy."

The screen flicked to empty blackness, then disappeared. A short pause followed the dead air, when Shelley decided to speak up.

"What conversation with a droid would this be, Little Master?" She asked. Jr. rounded on Ziggy like a wounded pit-bull.

"Oh, don't think I won't get you back for this, old man!"

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, Jr."

And so Ziggy left the poor boy stranded, without a life jacket, in the sea of curiosity formed by the 100-Series Realians and the Godwin Sisters.

* * *

The staring didn't bother him anymore. The streets of the Kukai Foundation were no different from those of Fifth Jerusalem that afternoon. His mind broke them into three categories-- those who passed with a look of sympathy, those shying from him on the sidewalk, and, his personal favorite, those too occupied to bother noticing him at all. As it always seemed to be, he was more frightening than anything to the denizens of this residential area of the capitol. But, he thought with satisfaction, 100 years of eyes boring into his skull had toughened him against the feeling. With light steps, Ziggy approached the sleek, frighteningly tall building that housed the Mizrahi apartment. 

A bright face framed with pink hair greeted him as the door swung in wide. Had he not been bracing himself against the door frame, the little Realian might have bowled him over with the force of her embrace. Ziggy made a small "oof" and returned the gesture gently. Half-smirking, he looked up from the top of MOMO's head to glance into the apartment to see a well-dressed Juli Mizrahi waiting just inside. He averted his glance back to the girl suddenly attached to his midsection.

"Oh, Ziggy, I missed you so much!" MOMO said gleefully, releasing him with a wide smile. Ziggy knelt to her level and tweaked one of her ears in what might be deemed an affectionate way.

"I missed you too," he said quietly. MOMO grinned, too ecstatic for words. She took Ziggy's human hand in her own and led him into the apartment.

Thus the tour began. It was amazingly well-furnished and open for an apartment, Ziggy thought. Then again, it was a Mizrahi in question. For a long while, the two of them stood at the wide bay window that overlooked the city, twenty-seven floors up. Juli passed them, a suitcase and briefcase in her hands. She placed a passing kiss on the top of MOMO's head.

"I'll be back late tonight," she said, turning her eyes to Ziggy, who nodded. "I know MOMO thinks she's old enough to stay by herself, but with everything that's happened..." She trailed off, leaving them both to the painful memory of nearly losing the girl only months before to the madman Albedo. "Besides," Juli began, tucking her hair behind her ear, "she really did miss you." MOMO's grip on Ziggy's hand tightened enthusiastically as she began dragging him toward the kitchen.

"'Bye, Mommy!" MOMO said, waving encouragingly. Juli smiled, watching the helpless face of the cyborg as the Realian led him about. Ziggy waved a half-hearted farewell before they disappeared into the kitchen.

Juli Mizrahi walked herself out and locked the door carefully behind her.

Before long, Ziggy had been shown through the entire apartment. MOMO's room was surprisingly like a human 14-year-olds room-- despite the schematics for the E.S Zebulun all along the south wall, Jr.'s bullet charm bracelet hanging in the window, and a few pictures she'd asked the Durandal's 100-Series Realians to take for her. Many were of Jr., but there were also some of Shion and Allen, the crew of the Elsa (including a rather candid photo of Captain Matthews grinning like an idiot), and more than a fair few of Ziggy himself. Most were snapped at an odd angle, as if the photographer had been hidden. Only one featured Ziggy's face close up-- he was sleeping. Given a special central focus on the east wall, where all the pictures were taped-up, was a medium-sized picture of MOMO, Juli and Ziggy together at the space port on Second Miltia.

The rest of the apartment was far from bare, but felt distinctly lacking something. Dr. Mizrahi's study was crammed with work-- everything from the desk to the bookshelves to the floor was littered in Sub Committee documents. Ziggy wasn't surprised to find information on himself stuck randomly inside a drawer. They thankfully left Juli's room a mystery.

Once the tour was over, MOMO plopped herself down on the creme-colored couch, and Ziggy stood over her inquisitively. She leaned over the back of the couch, her elbows denting the soft fabric and her tiny hands holding her warm cheeks as she glanced up at her one-time bodyguard.

"What do you want to do, Ziggy?" MOMO asked playfully. Ziggy helplessly shrugged.

"I'm a little new at this," he admitted. MOMO turned around and dramatically flopped down on the couch.

"You've never baby-sat before?" She asked. Ziggy shook his head, leaning where MOMO had just been, peering over the back of the couch at her. The girl grinned, getting back onto her knees and taking Ziggy's elbows in her hands and excitedly looking him in the eye.

"We could bake a surprise for Mommy," she suggested. "Her birthday is tomorrow." Before Ziggy could agree, MOMO hopped off the couch and was bounding off into the kitchen. Ziggy followed, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I didn't know that she had a birthday coming," Ziggy said awkwardly, wishing he hadn't. As he entered the kitchen, MOMO was tip-toed on a step ladder, trying desperately to reach a box on the top shelf. Her fingers barely brushed it.

"She doesn't tell anyone," MOMO answered without turning. "She thinks she's getting old, but then I tell her, 'Mommy, Ziggy doesn't complain and he's _much_ older--'" She stopped herself, freezing completely. She turned quickly, her eyes pained. "Oh, Ziggy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say anything that might bother you..."

"Don't worry about it," Ziggy said as he grabbed the box MOMO had been reaching for, handing it to her. "I am very old." MOMO took the box, smiled encouragingly, then hopped down off the step ladder. As she placed the box on the counter, MOMO pulled two aprons from the nearby pantry and threw one to Ziggy. He caught it with his robotic arm, and looked at it dubiously. It was white and covered in flowers.

"That's Mommy's, but I'm sure it'll fit you fine, Ziggy," MOMO said as she tied her own pink apron around her waist. She watched expectantly, waiting for the cyborg to comply. Feeling the weight of her golden eyes on him, he begrudgingly slipped the apron over his head. It was remarkably short on him. Where it might have draped below Juli's knees, this apron hardly reached Ziggy's thighs. Incredibly, he was able to tie it around his chest, for the ties didn't quite reach his stomach. MOMO covered her mouth to keep the laughter inside, and Ziggy felt an inexplicable blush rising furiously across his cheeks as he tried desperately to tie the strings behind his back. MOMO helped him after giggling for a long few moments.

MOMO moved over to where she had set the box, grinning. "We're going to make her a cake-- and from scratch! None of that synthetic stuff. Look what I found!" MOMO presented the box, which was covered in dust. Ziggy had no idea how long it had been sitting in the cupboard, but the expiration date was in the safe zone. It was real, organic flour. He took the box interestedly. He hadn't seen organic flour in a long time.

"Where did you get this?" Ziggy asked. MOMO had already begun busying herself around the kitchen.

"Jr. found it for me when I told him about the cake." MOMO turned, presenting a small card written in Jr.'s handwriting. The boy had never been one for conventional digital methods. It was a recipe, with the large word "CAKE" written simply across the top. "Isn't that sweet? He says he found it in one of his old books."

"He never fails to surprise me," Ziggy said with a real admiration. "And I have to deal with him every day." MOMO added a package of sugar to the pile slowly growing in Ziggy's arms.

"You two are pretty lucky to have each other, I think," MOMO said as she sifted through the junk in the pantry to find any more ingredients she was missing. "Otherwise, you'd be all alone, wouldn't you? I mean, sure, Mary and Shelley are there on the Durandal with him, but with Gaignun gone most of the time, who else close does Jr. have besides you?" Her smile was sweet, and Ziggy felt that he almost could have returned it.

The arduous work on the cake began. Jr.'s scrawl was harder to work out than first expected, and many attempts were made to decipher just was a "corp" of "sygor" was. Eventually most of the ingredients had been added to the dangerous concoction, and all that was left to mix in was the rare organic flour. Ziggy began to pour it carefully into the measuring cup MOMO held out for him, when the light, white dust raised from the flour caught in MOMO's nose. She wiggled her nose, trying to stop the inevitable. Suddenly, without warning, MOMO sneezed violently.

Several things happened at once. Ziggy's hand slipped slightly on the box of flour, MOMO's frame shuddered from the sneeze, causing the flour to jump from the measuring cup, which caused the box to fall completely from Ziggy's hand. The ensuing white cloud engulfed the entire kitchen. MOMO coughed, trying to shoo the powder from the surrounding air. But to no avail, as she suddenly began laughing and choking on flour at the same moment, when Ziggy loomed up from the disaster, his face and hair coated in the flour from MOMO's measuring cup. Ziggy, looking something like a ghost of a long-dead robot, shook his head to clear some of the flour from his person, throwing more powder into the air. MOMO laughed, tears forming in her golden eyes.

She didn't expect the retaliation. A handful of white flour thudded against MOMO's bright pink hair. Her shocked eyes fell on the strangely lop-sided almost-smile hovering on Ziggy's lips. She copied it, then scooped up another handful and threw it back in Ziggy's general direction. It fell with a cloud of white dust on Ziggy's chest, which was covered by the apron. Ziggy rubbed the flour generously in the girl's hair. Their scuffling feet threw more and more powder into the air, and MOMO's laughter filled the entire apartment.

Finally spent, exhausted, the two of them sat on the kitchen floor amid the flour, MOMO gently wheezing with laughter. MOMO closed her eyes and rested her head on Ziggy's shoulder, giggles still causing her the occasional convulsion. With a long sigh, she smiled and said:

"I love you, Ziggy."

Ziggy's shoulder went suddenly stiff beneath MOMO's head, and she heard a short intake of breath from her companion. She retreated from his shoulder embarrassedly, looking at her knees.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She met his eyes to find him searching her own eyes slowly, concernedly, and even unnervingly. She looked away again, blushing to her ear tips. "I didn't mean it... that way... What I mean to say is," she was struggling, tucking her hair behind her ear just like her mother. "What I mean is... You remind me of when Mommy and I are together. And it makes me happy."

He remained silent for a time, his eyes not leaving hers. At last, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Don't worry about it," he said finally, ruffling her hair. He stood and extended his hand to help her up. She accepted with a sweetly sad smile. Looking around at their post-battle destruction, MOMO gave a small laugh and said:

"Guess we'll have to use synthetic ingredients after all," she admitted with a red face. Ziggy huffed lightly, crossing his arms.

"Guess so. Get your shoes on," he added walking out of the kitchen and brushing more flour from his shoulder. MOMO followed curiously.

"Why?" She asked. Ziggy rigorously shook his hands through his blonde hair, which had become lank with the flour. He turned, hair hanging into his eyes.

"To pick up the synthetic ingredients for your mother's cake. I'm sure they have some at that market down the street." MOMO grinned.

"Okay!" She darted into her room, grabbed some footwear, and sat on the couch to slip them on her feet. She heard water running from the kitchen faucet, and Ziggy emerged into the living room, his hair dripping wet. He ran his hands through, slicking it back as usual.

MOMO inspected him curiously, then said, "I sort of liked it down."

Ziggy compromised by letting his bangs hang free.

The owner of the corner market knew MOMO the moment she walked in. He was an older, bearded man, and addressed MOMO as Miss Mizrahi. MOMO called him "Joe." Joe greeted Ziggy politely, though his demeanor brought Ziggy to believe he'd never had a cyborg in his shop. MOMO leaned over the counter in a friendly way.

"Joe, this is Ziggy. He's something like a bodyguard." She grinned wildly back at Ziggy, who shook his head.

"Not any more. I guess I'm more like... a family friend."

"Well, Miss Mizrahi's friends are mine, I suppose," Joe said warmly. "What is it you're needing today, Ms. Mizrahi?" MOMO grinned ashamedly.

"Well, Ziggy and I accidently... _used_ all of our normal flour. We'll need some of the synthetic kind."

"That's pretty run-of-the-mill, then," Joe said, emerging from behind the counter. MOMO followed him, and Ziggy came after. "There are several brands of the synthetic stuff. If you want, there's some on sale-- but it's not the best you can get."

MOMO dug in her pockets and pulled out some wrinkled currency. "What would this buy, Joe?" She asked innocently. Joe inspected it, then pulled a face.

"Maybe a stick of gum," he said honestly. Ziggy stepped forward, handing Joe a card.

"Here. This should cover anything MOMO wants." MOMO stared up gladly at the men towering above her. Joe whistled lowly.

"You sure have a lot of Federation Credits for a--" he cut himself short, smartly stopping his remark before it began. "Yeah, this should be fine."

They continued on until they reached a row of shelves all containing the synthetic flour they'd been looking for. Joe suggested the best brand (which was most definitely not the cheapest) and Ziggy carried it under his arm. At the checkout, MOMO spied a package of candles, and Ziggy nodded. They exited the market carrying a bagful of flour, candles and a few choice bits of candy they'd spied. Ziggy had assured MOMO it was quite all right with him.

* * *

The oven was hot as MOMO opened the door. Ziggy carefully placed the cake pan inside, and the door was shut with a small cheer from MOMO. She blinked a few times, then looked up at her companion. 

"All right, I have the timer set."

_A whole new meaning for the phrase "biological clock,"_ Ziggy thought amusedly. He looked up at the digital readout above the stove. He was surprised at how late it was. As if a testament to the validity of the clock, MOMO tried to stifle a large yawn.

"Your mother didn't tell me what time to put you to bed," Ziggy said truthfully, yet to the point. MOMO shook her head, the yawn refusing to go away.

"No, it's not late. I want to stay up and help with the cake!" Ziggy, not one to take no for an answer, picked the girl up, slinging her over his shoulder. She laughed, playfully flailing and shouting things such as, "You'll never take me alive!"

Once in MOMO's room, he plopped her down on her bed, where she pretended to pout.

"Why do you get to say up, Ziggy?"

"Because I'm an adult," he said as he watched her take off her shoes and remove the barrettes from her hair.

"That's Mommy's excuse, too," she noted, lying down and letting Ziggy pull the covers up to her chin. "Do you think Jr. is allowed to make that excuse?"

"He practically runs the Kukai Foundation," Ziggy said with a shrug. "I'm pretty sure he can use any excuse he wants." MOMO gave a quiet laugh, resigning herself to bedtime.

"Can you tell me a story, Ziggy?"

Ziggy wondered, slightly slack-jawed if he _could _tell a story.

"Well..." He looked around the room for inspiration, and, finding nothing, settled on something familiar to his own mind. "There was a young man named--" He almost said Jan, but stopped himself at the last moment, "--John. He had no brothers or sisters, and his father died when he was very young."

"What happened?" MOMO asked concernedly.

"His father died in the line of duty," Ziggy said unflinchingly. "And John knew that when he grew up, all he wanted to do was be just like his father had been."

"He wanted to be a policeman?" MOMO interjected again. Her voice was drowsy. Ziggy nodded.

"Yes, more than anything. Any games that John would play as a child were centered on that theme. In fact, when John was playing with his friend Thomas, John accidently shot him in the leg."

MOMO's eyebrows raised, but she made no sound. Ziggy shook his head, remembering his own stupidity.

"John and Thomas had found John's father's old firearms, and John was so star-struck that he didn't think about the consequences of his actions. They took the guns into the culvert behind John's house and began to toy with them."

Ziggy saw that MOMO's eyes were drooping. He lowered his voice and continued. "John turned too quickly and fired a shot straight at his friend. If Thomas hadn't been moving in the first place, John might have killed him." He paused. "John's mother did a little more than scolding after that accident. But the moral is, MOMO--" he broke off. MOMO's eyes were closed. Ziggy didn't know whether the girl had been that tired or if his story had been that boring. He stood as quietly as possible, but MOMO stirred.

"Thank you, Ziggy," she mumbled. Ziggy allowed himself the tiniest smile. "You're welcome."

The clock on the wall read 11:30 when he pulled the cake out of the oven. It was steaming deliciously as he set in on the cooling rack. He wondered absently when Juli Mizrahi would be returning from her trip, but remembered that she'd said she'd return late. Ziggy awkwardly arranged himself on the couch, doing his best not to ruin the upholstery. The pillow behind his head was simply for comfort, he told himself. And he was simply resting his eyes. That's what he told himself up to the point that he fell asleep.

Juli opened the door to her apartment at 2 AM. The lights were down and there was a steady breathing sound coming from somewhere in the living room. She moved into her study without turning on the lights, where she summarily dumped all of her work. She moved silently into MOMO's room, where the little Realian was sleeping soundly. She placed a soft kiss on the girl's brow, then moved back into the living room. The breathing was louder the nearer she got to the couch. She considered turning on the lights, but, laughing silently, she knew that she might never see this sight again.

The cyborg was draped unceremoniously on her couch, his head tilted up toward the ceiling, one leg propped up on the opposite arm of the couch, and one arm behind his head. His breathing was deep and steady. One more level and it might have been snoring. Juli held a hand to her mouth, wishing she had a camera. MOMO would've loved to have added this picture to her collection.

She noticed that his hair wasn't completely slicked back, as it usually was. His bangs were hanging into his eyes, giving him a roguish look. Juli felt her face flush. Did she just think _roguish_? Then again...

Before she knew what she was doing, Juli was sitting on the ground beside the couch, hands folded in her lap, eyes on the sleeping cyborg. His breathing was almost relaxing, calm and steady. She cocked her head gently, then raised one hand against her will. Carefully, gently, she ran her fingers across his brow, moving the bangs from his eyes.

Without a sound, Ziggy's human arm shot from his side and caught Juli's hand where it lay on his cheek. Juli gasped shortly, and Ziggy's eyes broke open with sudden realization.

"Dr. Mizrahi--" He quickly let go of her hand, staring confusedly. Sitting up, he took in her wide eyes, flushed face and short breath and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"No," she said with her own air of apology. "I just saw you sleeping--" She cut herself off. She wasn't helping herself at all.

Silence. The darkness hid her flushing cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly.

She didn't know what to say. To say "nothing" would be wrong, and he'd know it. To say what was really on her mind... Well, that wasn't an option. So she opted to change the subject.

"Thank you... for watching MOMO today." She hoped it would suffice. She could feel his eyes on her.

"Juli," he said simply. She felt oddly weak at his tone, and it showed in her eyes. She told herself, _No, I shouldn't_.

But, even though her mind knew better, she moved up to her knees, meeting him face-to-face. She was between his knees as he sat on the couch, now. His eyes searched hers, and she knew what he'd find. Her fingers moved to his face, where they paused, then brushed his hair back from his eyes with a short sigh of resignation. Soon, her lips were at his brow. He sighed deeply, contentedly, against her neck.

"Juli," he said again, his low voice resonating in the dark. She met his eyes. He tried to form many words, and finally could only come up with one. "MOMO." She thought of her daughter, asleep only a few rooms away. Juli ran one hand across Ziggy's cheek and through his hair. She, too, could only come up with one word.

"Tomorrow."

They seemed to be in accordance, as Juli met Ziggy's lips with her own in the dark.

His hand swept her hair from her face, where his fingers moved slowly from the base of her skull down her neck. She sighed again before pressing in closer and deepening their kiss. His robotic arm anchored itself around her waist, holding her as close as he could in their strange position. Both her arms looped around his neck in an almost adolescent display, lacing her fingers in bliss. ZIggy's organic hand brushed Juli's cheek, as if not believing her presence to be real. She made a soft, pleased sound against him.

Stopping for one moment, Ziggy ran his hand longingly through her hair, his eyes telling of emotions long locked away. Juli inspected him with a careful eye, then whispered closely, "Why does it smell like chocolate?" Ziggy gave a short, low, whisper of a laugh.

"Happy Birthday," he murmured, pulling her into him again.

* * *

MOMO walked into the living room, sleep still in her eyes. Ziggy lay asleep on the couch, one hand over his brow. Her mother was curled up in the reclining chair across from him, her hair disheveled and the top button of her blouse undone. 

MOMO approached her, and leaned close to whisper, "Happy Birthday, Mommy." Juli's eyes opened slowly, and a smile formed on her face.

"Good morning, MOMO." She hugged the girl close to her, then stretched quickly."I hear that you and Ziggy made me something wonderful." MOMO looked quickly to the sleeping cyborg.

"He told you?" She gave a menacing look to Ziggy, then sprang. She landed on Ziggy's midsection. He made a strangled sound in his throat, then took MOMO by the waist.

"MOMO!" He gasped, completely without breath.

"You told her our secret?" She asked with feigned vehemence. "How could you?"

"MOMO, I didn't-- Could you--" He struggled, not wanting to hurt the girl. She hopped off complacently, and Ziggy sat up. He glanced sidelong at Juli, who was walking into the kitchen. He turned back to MOMO with confidentiality. "I didn't tell her. I promise." MOMO beamed.

The three of them stood admiring the cake. It was lop-sided and the candles were sticking out at odd angles, to which Ziggy owned up. Juli smiled admiringly at the both of them. Catching Ziggy's eye, Juli knelt down next to MOMO, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"MOMO, we... we want to talk to you about something."

* * *

"Hey, he arrives!" Jr. announced, throwing his hands into the air as Ziggy walked off the lift and onto the bridge. Mary grinned, waving salutations to the cyborg. 

"Welcome back, y'all!" she said enthusiastically. Shelley nodded in recognition.

"What took you so long?" Jr. said, hurt dripping sarcastically from his voice.

"Dr. Mizrahi's birthday was today," Ziggy stated simply, "and MOMO wished for me to stay for a while longer to celebrate. I'm sorry if I cause any inconvenience."

"Aw, _heck_ naw y' didn't," Mary interjected. "Little Mastah was just gettin' lonely without ya. I mean, havin' t' spend all day with Shelley here can't be any fun, can it?"

"Hey, I was _not_ lonely!" Jr. protested before Shelley could say anything, his face growing warm. He paused before adding, "You... doing anything?" Mary erupted in a gale of laughter. Jr.'s face flushed furiously. "Well, see if I ever hang out with _you_ again!" He stormed down to where Ziggy stood. "C'mon, old man, I wanna beat your ass at poker or something."

The cyborg shook his head, following the young man. Whatever else he had to say about Juli Mizrahi could wait. But, just in case, he asked Shelley never to let Jr. know if Juli ever called for Ziggy again. _Ever_.

End


End file.
